"Running on Empty: Giving from a Place of Need"

We’ve all been there. Driving down the highway, or through busy city streets. Let’s say it’s been a hectic couple of days, so it’s probably the last thing on your mind. Suddenly you glance down at the dashboard, and the gas gauge light turns on.  I’m curious — what do you usually do?  Are you one of those people who:

A) Pulls over to the nearest gas station right away to fill up the tank;

B) Keep on driving, “I have a big tank — I think”  tempting fate

C) Keep on driving but try not to use the accelerator too much - after all, you can make the next 20 miles home.

Now I’d like for you to imagine how it feels to have a full tank of gas.  Do you lean on the accelerator just a bit more? Does having that full tank give you just a bit more “edge,” “control,” or security as you travel to your destination? It’s interesting, isn’t it? Like it or not, there seems to be a big gap between “full” and “empty,” and it does influence how we go about life on a daily basis. 

In our Gospel lesson this morning, I picture Jesus in the temple, hiding behind one of the pillars and whispering to his disciples.  He is watching and listening to the poor widow, about to put her last two coins in the offering box.  Can’t you just see him sneaking behind the pillar, telling them, “Here she comes….wait for it — Ker PLUNK ker PLUNK,”  That was the sound of the Saducees’ coins in their long robes.  Then came the widow with her two small coins (lepta), both adding up to about a penny. In her case, it was probably “clink - clink.” 

Jesus’ point? Long story short, he says to his followers, “The Saducees gave from a place of abundance while the widow gave from a place of need.”  To Jesus, the difference between the two of them was not how much they gave, but what motivated their giving. There is a difference.

What about our OT widow today? We heard about her in our first reading.  Elijah goes to Zarephath, already on a mission. The Lord already told him, “I have commanded a widow to feed you.” Apparently this is his God-ordained rest stop, so he meets her by the gate of the city as she is gathering sticks, and asks her first for a little cup of water. So she goes to get the water, and Elijah calls out to her, “Bring me a little piece of bread.” It appears he’s trying not to presume she has a whole lot, he’s just asking for a tiny pice, but she answers, “As the Lord God lives,” - which is a strong statement, meaning perhaps, “I swear to you (with undertones of “give me a break, who do you think I am?”) all I have is a handful of meal and a little oil in a jug — I was just about to bring these sticks home, make a little cake for myself and my son — and die.”

The story could have ended there.  Elijah could have excused himself, saying, “Ok, I get it, sorry to bother you, I’ll be on my way, you’ll be in my thoughts and prayers.” But — he had a mandate from God.  And whenever someone is sent by God in the Bible, it seems that they utter three amazing words ‘’ “Do not be afraid.”  Remember Mary again? And the angel?  “Do not be afraid, Mary..” That is the ultimate example. “Be not afraid” are PIVOTAL words — words that indicate a turning point in every story. They signal that something great is about to happen. (Moses on the mountain? — cite other examples)

“For thus says the Lord God of Israel,” he says. The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not rail until the day that the Lord send rain on the earth.”  Next step:  SHE WENT AND DID as Elijah said, so that she as wells he and her household ate for many days.  (I guess he stayed there for a while). The jar of meal was not empited, neither did the jug of il fail, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah.”  Hello? Feeding of the 5000?  Manna from heaven?  The list goes on and on…

And if that weren’t enough, we have the Psalmist chiming in today  He, too, mentions the widow and the orphaned - “the least of these,” the ones the Hebrew Scriptures as well as Jesus command us to make our priority. But here, also, we see how God acts in the world.  First of all, he praises God and very quickly becomes quite specific:  “Put not your trust in rulers, in mortals in whom there is no help.” A very timely reminder especially after a particularly loaded  midterm election, a reminder that only GOD is in ultimate control. We have our rulers, who pledge to do their best, but the distinction here is that “in them there is no help.” An earlier Psalm says, “I lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my HELP?”  My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth. And listen to what God DOES —

Many, many verbs here -  read with me:

gives justice to those who are oppressed, 

food to those who hunger,

sets the captive free,

opens the eyes of the blind

lifts up those who are bowed down

loves the righteous

cares for the stranger

sustains the orphan and widow

And furthermore, he frustrates the way of the wicked. 

With such a mighty God, we still tend to forget the immensity of God’s strength, the immediacy of God’s  help, the blessed assurance that God knows what we need.  He acts in this world through the Holy Spirit, who in turn, sets people into action.

in just a few minutes, we will hear from two members of the Deborah Circle, who have inspired me greatly as I have watched just these few moments as they talk about their work at St. Paul’s community and how it impacts the world at large.  They do lots of work with the Welcome Church, and hearing about this community again took me back to my first days in seminary.

I was taking the Intro to Liturgy class, and our professor, Dr. Claudio Carvalhaes, was a very hands-on instructor. It was coming up to Ash Wednesday 2013 and one of our first assignments was that the class would meet outside the Free Library at 19th and the Parkway with the intent to break up into groups and distribute ashes to people walking by - whoever wanted them. The results were surprising and heartwarming. Nearly every person, regardless of their faith tradition, seemed genuinely appreciative and so thankful that we approached them. In one case, I met a Muslim couple.  They did not outright refuse the ashes, but of course pointed out that they were Muslim and not sure they could do that. My partner and I asked, “Well, how about a blessing?”  They nodded, “Sure.” I gently laid my hand on their head, one at a time, saying, ‘Child of God, remember that you are loved by God and be blessed.”  The next person I met was a woman named Lisa,  This resonated with me for obvious reasons, but it made me see that in blessing others, we also bless ourselves — a reminder that we all are much more connected that we usually realize.  Finally, we regrouped again and met Pastor Violet Little in front of the Library, where she set up a card table with Dixie cups, grape juice, and a paper plate of Ritz crackers for Communion.  Other people began to arrive and chat with us.  Many if not all were homeless.  They were gracious, warm, and hospitable - living up to their community’s name - The Welcome  Church.  One of the men had written a song and sang it for us.  He taught us the refrain. Another woman testified about how good God had been to her that week. Yet it appeared she didn’t have much at all and was carrying what little belongings she had along with her in one of those granny carts.  We shared the Eucharist.  It was truly amazing.  

God is at work in this world, my friends!  Let’s watch….

(or try clicking here --->) DEBORAH CIRCLE VIDEO  

It certainly is inspiring to see our sisters jump into action right here, right now, and reaching out to those in need.  YOUR help makes groups like the Deborah Circle possible, groups that have touched lives for decades right out of St. Paul’s.  Thank you to Nancy and Linda and all who worked hard to produce this video. 

In a Stewardship report after service, Cathy Keim read a lot of statistics last week.  We heard about all the tiers of giving we have here at St. Paul’s.  What you may not have heard is that our giving reflects faithful obedience to a great degree - we, as in life, don’t generally see the whole picture.  When we get to the bottom line, our church, like most churches, still has a ways to go.  The cost of building maintenance and the cost of living constantly goes up, so our giving needs to go up as well.  Remember those important three words I mentioned earlier?  The ones that come up in the Bible many times just before God shows up? — “Be not afraid”

I am told that if all of us — those presently giving as well as those units who have not — gave $10 more per week (that’s roughly the cost of a sandwich and drink at Wawa) — St. Paul’s would be closer to reaching the bottom line.  “Are you a ’10?’”

It’s not up to me, or the pastor, or anyone on the stewardship committee to convince you to give.  Only Jesus, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can transform and convince your heart about those details.

It’s not about what you have, but what we have been entrusted with. It’s about grace.  It’s about power made perfect in the very weakness and emptiness we feel.  In what ways are you widowed and orphaned today?  We don’t all lose our spouses or parents, but we all suffer loss and emptiness.  

Our Veterans, whose sacrifices we remember this weekend, are valiant examples of the kind of selfless giving that cost them their very lives.  Of our Veterans that do survive, many have an extremely difficult time resettling into civilian life - finding jobs, homes, and the health care they desperately need to help them with conditions developed or exacerbated by their deployment.  Pray for our veterans.  Also, remember that this year we celebrate the 100th Anniversary of Armistice Day, remembering World War I and those veterans which gave their lives - many of our grandparents, great grandparents, brothers, sisters, husbands and wives. As Rudyard Kipling writes in The Old Issue, "When you go home, tell them of us and say, for their tomorrow we gave our today."

This  Armistice Day, realizing the great costs of the Great War, we say no to war and yes to peace. Despite Satan’s continued efforts to thwart us, we say no to evil and yes to God. That’s what Baptism is all about, and that’s yet another reason to celebrate this day. Stewardship, too, is connected to this commitment of our lives to God in baptism, when we empty ourselves by dying to sin and rising to new life in Christ.

When Jesus came down to earth in human skin, He emptied himself, too. He gave up his heavenly power to come down and become one of us, “once for all,” as it says in the Paul’s letter to the Hebrews. It was this power of the Spirit that allowed the Widow’s “mite” - 2 small coins become the widow’s ‘Might” — her strength made perfect in weakness.  Giving — from a place of abundance — the abundance that God gives us each and every day, through his infinite love for each one of us.  

Be not afraid. Put your pedal to the metal!

"Gladly, the Cross-Eyed Bear" aka “The Three ‘Bears’l

Organists are rare birds. As our own Phyllis Linn or Rae Ann Anderson can tell you, good organists are not only few and far between, but they also share wonderful jokes amongst themselves.

Sometimes, when we hear hymn and song texts, our ears can deceive us. Many church musicians like to share corny jokes in the form of alternate or misheard hymn titles. So I decided to ask the FB Organists Association, who were happy to send me some of their favorite hymn bloopers:

-“Come for Tea, My People” (Comfort Ye, My People)

-“We believe in being honest, true, chased by elephants." (The Thirteenth Article of Faith)

-What is Andy doing there in the garden, anyway? “Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me”

-“Lead On, O Kinky Turtle”

-“The cattle are blowing the baby away.” (Away in A Manger)

-and for Christmas, the line in “The Angel Gabriel” = “most highly flavored gravy”

-“While shepherds washed their socks by night “

…and my personal favorite — “Gladly, the Cross-Eyed Bear.” 

“Gladly” can sit here as a reminder that Words can play tricks on us.  We hear the same word side by side and it may have slightly or entirely different meanings. Language is important, but not always perceived in the same way.

This morning I would like to talk about three different ways we can bear the cross.  (Four, if you count Gladly here).

But first, let’s unpack the Gospel lesson we just heard. 

There they are, James and John walking together with Jesus. It’s a weird proposition — “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”  Kind of presumptuous, don’t you think?  And if it weren’t addressed to Jesus I would almost suspect it was a trick question.  What’s Jesus supposed to say?  If it were up to me, I’d say “Suuure, I’ll do anything you ask.” But that’s just me, and  I’m not as smart as Jesus.  Instead, he answers them with a question. “What is it you want me to do for you?” “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in Your glory.”  First lesson learned: Never say yes to such a question

Jesus knew that James and John had absolutely no clue what they were asking, and tells them so. When He asks them, “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I was baptized with?” Not knowing what they were really getting into, they’re like, “Yeah, yeah, sure.. We are able.” 

So we, too, must be careful.  For instance , when we baptize — we are asked questions like, “PoG, do you promise to support these sisters and brothers and pray for them in their life in Christ?” and we answer, “We do, and we ask God to help and guide us.”  

In passages like this, we learn that we need to KNOW, to the best of our limited knowledge, what it is we are asking of as well as promising to God. Although we act in faith — and  there are a lot of unknowns —we are still responsible for what we DO know. If we have the daunting task of taking up the cross before us, we’d better have some idea of what we’re getting into.

So Jesus continues, saying, “Okay.  You will drink the cup that I will drink, and be baptized with the baptism of which I am baptized, BUT…to sit at my RH or at my left is not for me to decide. God has already taken care of this,” says Jesus.  

At this point all the disciples get a bit angry with James and John. Jesus smashes the prevailing hierarchy to bits.   “You know that the great rulers around here are tyrants and keep those below them under their thumb. But that’s not what we’re about here. Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Drinking the cup, sharing His baptism, we are also invited to share in Jesus’ suffering, to carry the cross.  In effect, Jesus is asking, “Are you willing to walk in my shoes?” asking us to leave ourselves behind and concern ourselves with those around us. 

People will often say things like, “Well, that is my cross to BEAR (same spelling).”  But that sounds passive, that sounds like, “Well, I’ll just have to deal with it, this is the pain that I am stuck with.”  But Jesus tells us, “TAKE up your cross DAILY” — it is an active challenge to us all.  In order to TAKE up something, we need to make a decision.  Now, this is not the same as making a decision for Christ.  Christ already made a decision FOR US. Therefore, we are already IN Christ. But, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer points out in “The Cost Of Discipleship,” this is not cheap, but costly grace. We are still faced with a choice every day — whether or not to dare to go outside of ourselves and our own comfort zone and TAKE up the cross of Christ.  Every day.. Each day brings new challenges.

Second form... I think of the verb “to BEAR,” which means “to give birth.”  And I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who was given her own cross even before her son arrived on this earth — and that was to actually CARRY him in her womb.  When we hear her Magnificat we hear of her willingness to BEAR the very cross of Christ — “My Soul does magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For He who is mighty has done great things, and holy is his Name.”  

We, too bear, or birth the Cross every day, as, what Martin Luther calls, “little Christs” in this world. We bear the cross in the world by proclaiming the Good News.  As we walk the talk,  people can’t help but see that we are followers of Christ.  Just as one couldn’t help but see Mary’s pregnant belly as she was with child, we too, can be so full of the Holy Spirit and the good news of the Gospel as we bring it forth — birth it — to others. (New moms example)

Yet we, as residents of this world, sometimes find ourselves in situations where we are truly in the midst of our own suffering, or perhaps we see a lot of turmoil around us. While it’s so easy to get drawn into darkness, we remember and re-member and BARE (homonym) - reveal, show - B-A-R-E the Cross even as we bare our souls to others.  We take that risk and become vulnerable, in spite of our brokenness.

This is where the rubber hits the road.  This is where we find ourselves this day.  World Hunger Sunday.  We take risks when we forget ourselves and put others first. When we see someone at the intersection carrying a cardboard sign -  (“Will work for food” “Homeless and hungry” “Help me get my wife back”) — those signs are symbols of have THEIR “crosses.”   When we see these signs, sometimes our minds race. We come up with all kinds of excuses.  The light’s gonna change.  Oh man, this guy’s gonna get run over if he doesn’t get out of the road.

Well, who is it that really needs to get out of the road?  Maybe WE need to get out of our OWN road.  Maybe WE need to put ourselves last, and not second-guess the Holy Spirit.

Many times, I try to rationalize things. The skinny young woman outside the Wawa, asking very politely for a handout.  “Ok, maybe when I come back I’ll have some change, ” I say.  “I don’t have any cash right now.”  Silently I hope that maybe she’ll move on while we’re in there getting our coffee.  “Oh, maybe I could buy her a sandwich, but who knows if that’s what she really wants anyway.  Probably not. She probably wants money.  And she’ll buy more meth with that.  Or other drugs. Or alcohol. Aww, forget about it.”

Well.  People of God, guess what?  What she will do with that money has already been decided — by the same God who already arranged where James and John will be sitting on that day of glory.  And it’s not about sitting on thrones. That entire exchange is about the Ultimate Exchange — through Christ’s redemptive sacrifice on the cross, crucified between two THIEVES on either side of Him. the Suffering Servant we hear about in Isaiah, the hymn we so often sing in Lent:  

When I survey the wondrous cross, On which the Prince of Glory died

My richest gain I count but loss, And POUR CONTEMPT on all my pride.

“All my pride.” When confronted by someone in need, we can’t presume to do the work of the Holy Spirit.  We can’t translate the message of the Spirit into our own version of God’s will.  It’s the Holy Spirit’s job to tug at your heart.  It’s the Spirit’s job to make you feel uncomfortable, and to stir you enough to reach out to someone else.  To put ourselves last. 

Our job is to act in response to the Spirit,  not to second-guess —  Go with the first thing you hear, don’t make it up on your own terms. If God says feed the hungry - go feed the hungry.  Clothe the naked, go to the thirsty, give them drink.  Make disciples. Baptize them in Jesus name.  We show up and do whatever it takes because we are God’s hands in this world, acting on behalf of the One who gave Himself for all of us.

Finally, What’s the name of our bear again?  “GLADLY — the cross-eyed bear,  We are to bear our cross gladly because we love the One who loved us first, without ever thinking of himself.  “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.”  

How about you?  What can we do?  Be vulnerable. Take that risk. Throwing aside all weight, let’s put ourselves last and follow in Jesus’ footsteps, sharing His Baptism, sharing His cup - gladly.  AMEN 

Of Dryers and Divorce (preached at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, October 7, 2018)

“Of Dryers and Divorce”

     What a week this has been! You could hear the noise for months — from a low rumble to a dull roar.  But anyway, it had been noisy for months.  I had grown to almost be comforted by that rumbling noise. To me, it meant things were at least working.  Then, out of nowhere.,,

Our dryer had finally given up the ghost.  My only warning was that ever-so-slightly high-pitched squeak that made me sure the belt had broken but it all went out the window when I saw the repairman’s face…. The question is, would it be better to replace the dryer or keep it and get it fixed? 

That’s what happens when we practice deferred maintenance - not attending to those subtle or not-so-subtle signals that warn us something is about to go. That’s what happens when we don’t attend to things right away. Brokenness.  While I considered this topic, I soon came to realize that the dryer wasn’t the only thing that had broken.  In our house, malfunctions seem to come in groups.  The toaster-convection oven that promised to cook and air fry everything under the sun suddenly wouldn’t turn on. The week before we had a broken toilet, my SmartWatch stopped charging itself, and of course the car’s maintenance light had to turn on in the meantime.  First world problems.  
     It’s always something. And usually it’s easily remedied by getting it fixed. Once something is fixed, we feel energized, ready to face the world again, unfettered and unencumbered by that weight of uncertainty.

Other things are not as easy to fix.  At least not by ourselves.  It’s hard at times to even acknowledge something is wrong, let alone call for help, until we get close to rock bottom, when all we are left with is the sound of our own voice, shouting as blind Bartimaeus did, “Jesus, Son of God, have pity on me!”

I think I yelled that phrase myself a lot this week, for a number of reasons. my gadgets and appliances notwithstanding.  I wrestled with this Gospel passage “with fear and trembling,” as Paul says. You may not believe this, but I took over 20 pages of notes.  If I had to be brutally honest,  I’d say that this is probably at the top of my “List of Things I Wish Jesus Had Never Said.”  Like it or not,  your minds have been on the “D-word” since I read it to you a few moments ago.  Once we hear the word “divorce,” everyone has their own story or movie in their head. Here’s one of my own.

It was the summer of 1999 and our children were young.  We had just moved back to Philadelphia after four years of living in Germany and both my husband I were heading back to work.  He found a job teaching German at Immanuel Lutheran School on Cottman Avenue, and I resumed my work with Opera Philadelphia and was hired as Music Director at a Baptist church nearby.  At that church, we met Joan, an older woman in the choir and soon became fast friends.  In no time at all she offered to watch the kids for us while I had evening opera rehearsals and Todd was traveling.  We had come up with some sort of arrangement but she never wanted to get paid.  This was perplexing and a bit frustrating. We wanted to pay her for her services, but she continually refused.  She would say, “You have all become my family now.  I don’t have anyone anymore.  I lost my parents. I have been praying to find a family for a long long time.  I’ve been living alone.”

It is not good for anyone to be alone.

Joan wasn’t always alone, however.  It turns out she was a retired dance teacher who had her own teaching studio for years, right near where the Office Max is today on Cottman, across from the Four Seasons Diner.  She would tell story after story about her then “boyfriend” Joe, who had proposed to her, and the fun they had together going ballroom dancing all over the city.  She would tell these joyful stories while the children were around.

But at night, after the kids had gone to bed and I gave her a ride home, Joan would pour out her heart to me.  She confessed to feeling very lonely, and there was a tinge of bitterness in her voice.  She told me that Joe had proposed to her, and they were even engaged to be married, but one day she discovered the truth — a truth that had her devastated.  Joe had previously been married.  And the church Joan was raised in did not allow anyone to marry someone who was divorced.  There wasn’t any wavering or debate.  She told him no, they could not marry, and immediately broke their engagement.  

This was all based on the Gospel passage we read today.   This piece of the Law is so unlike anything Jesus affirms, says or does in the rest of Mark, let alone any of the other Gospels. This text has been used, time and time again, in hurtful, damaging ways by the Church.

Somehow, I cannot picture Jesus shaking his head at Joan - or anyone -  saying, “Sorry, you’re doomed to live your life alone because Joe was previously married.”   Yet still today, many are turned away from receiving the Lord’s body and blood at the Eucharist because of their marital status.  It is heartbreaking. 

But listen closely to what is actually happening here.  The Pharisees ask Jesus - to test him — “is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  Jesus, somewhat suspicious of the way they ask the question (“is it lawful for A MAN” - for who?  That’s like those FB posts that say “asking for a friend”), turns it around and answers them, “What did Moses command YOU?”  He applies it to their personal situation (since he knows they are likely asking the question on their own behalf).  They answer “correctly,” “Moses allowed A MAN to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.”  But Jesus said to them, “Because of YOUR hardness of heart he wrote this commandment FOR YOU.”

For you. As Martin Luther says, we are to read the Bible not by letting Scripture interpret us, but by interpreting Scripture through our lens, applying the Word to our situation, taking the words that are intended — FOR US.

What is intended FOR US concerning divorce is God’s ideal.  What Jesus is saying here is “IF it were up to God, there would be NO divorce.”

But life in the first century was hard, let alone life since time began, and divorce became a man-made institution which in most cases marginalized women and children even further. In those days, divorce was as good as a death sentence for a woman. She couldn’t just land on her feet and get a job of her own.  Often such women were sold into slavery or prostitution.  Others who stayed in the marriage continued to be abused, and sadly, not much has changed today in many cases. It is highly likely that  Jesus reiterated this law in order to protect women from abuse in his time.

Indeed, it is not good for a person to be alone. If we, regardless of our history, find ourselves alone and were to meet a companion who brings us joy, I don’t think Jesus would begrudge us, but would rejoice with us as Adam did when God introduced his helper, Eve, to him.  Adam said, “This at last is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh:”

      Helper. This particular Hebrew word (etzer) is not meant to sound subservient.  There is no such word in English exactly. This word for helper is the same word used for God throughout the Bible, primarily the Psalms.  The only time it is applied to another person is here, in Genesis 2.  God takes our helpers, our companions, and our spouses seriously and we should too.  We are to care for each other and all our creation.

When we look at creation, we are compelled to cry out as the Psalmist did — “Oh Lord, our Lord how majestic is Your Name in All the Earth!!” We respond to God’s creation with that sense of wonder.  The very fact that we are created means that we are essential to God.

God, who created order out of chaos, who created us in God’s image. 

Do we know what God looks like? Since the text doesn’t specifically tell us, it’s counterproductive to try and conjure up an image.  We have to feel the force of being told that we are formed in the image of God, who loves us, cares for us, knows, and gives us everything we need. 

So after a few days, I made up my mind about that dryer.  For a German girl, I’m not too thrifty, but there must be a vestigial thrifty bone in my body somewhere, because I opted to apply the service consultation fee toward the repair and get the broken dryer fixed rather than buy a new one.

That’s just how I am. I don’t throw things away.  Ask my husband, who might call me a hoarder.  But before I go on, I just want to speak again to the act of caring for our creation.  We live in a throwaway society.  It’s often much easier and more convenient to dispose of things we don’t need rather than to fix, reuse, and repurpose them.  But there is a lot to be said about caring for creation as well as tending our relationships.

This is not meant to sound boastful, but my husband and I have been together for 29.5 years and we can both tell you that in our marriage, many repairs have taken place over that time.  Too many to be counter — more like an old car than that dryer.  Thank God for duct tape!  Don’t think our minds haven’t gone to that dreaded D-word. Divorce touches all of us in one way or another.  It represents the pain of two people being one flesh, then torn asunder.  It is excruciating pain.

But God knows that pain.  God, too, was torn from Godself the moment His Son died on the cross. Because of that mighty act, there is freedom in that pain.  It started at creation. 

That freedom is our forgiveness. We need to remember and accept that forgiveness — not in order to get it, but in order to partake of the comfort and consolation it provides for us so that we can move on in life as we remain in close relationship with our God.

Just as I thought “that dryer belt MUST be the problem,” sometimes the things we think are important are not the real issues. Sometimes we are sure we know what the problem is, only to be surprised that it’s something else entirely. It may cause us to do things differently or unexpectedly.  

After the confrontation with the Pharisees, Jesus was angry with the disciples, who, acting as power brokers, wanted to turn away the people who were bringing the children to him.. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out and touches them, takes them up in his arms, and blesses them, as if to say, “That’s enough of that,  THIS (children) is the REAL thing.  This — is the Kingdom of God!”

Can’t you just feel the joy, the laughter at the end of this passage?  That’s hope. Hope that binds up brokenness. We know that hope is always working because God is still in the creation business today as part of God’s promise to us.

Be blessed.  Be good to yourselves, and good to each other.  Tend your relationship with God and with one another.  Remember - You are God’s beloved children.  AMEN.

"Last, But Not Least" (preached at St. Paul's Lutheran Church of Glenside, September 23, 2018)

"Last, But Not Least" 

St. Paul's Lutheran Church of Glenside

September 23, 2018

Lectionary 25B/Pentecost 18

Mark 9:30-27

I was that kid.  Once upon a time.

I was probably about four years old, and the first child born in the US to German parents, who had emigrated to the U.S. about ten years earlier.  They were eager to give me a good start in this new world, so the time had come for me to attend Nursery School.  Although I had no idea what to expect, I could tell my mother was pretty excited about it.  As the school year began, it certainly was a wonderful thing to be with other kids my age (especially since I at that point was an only child). I loved the painting, coloring, singing, listening to stories…I can still taste those graham crackers and the Hi-C juice and smell that white paste like it was just yesterday.

Overall, things seemed to go pretty smoothly until one day, when it was circle time.  “Okay, cool,” I thought, quite elated at the idea of sitting in a circle with my classmates.  I don’t think I had ever done that before.  The next thing I knew, we had to go around the circle and describe our bedtime routines.  “What do we wear to bed? Do you have a favorite stuffed animal?”

Not feeling the slightest bit anxious, I quickly tried to formulate the answer in my head:  “My mom bought me a ‘blanket sleeper’ (that’s what she called it, you know, those Dr. Denton jammies) and I have a stuffed cat named Minka.” There, that sounds good, I thought.

When it came time for me to open my mouth, the words that came out did not sound the same as what the other kids had been saying.  I struggled to make them sound the same but did not know how.  It was weird gibberish and the teacher politely dismissed what I tried to say and went on to the next child.  I was startled because I felt — different.  Suddenly I wasn’t like all the others.  I felt as though I didn’t belong.

Things were a bit different back in the day.  I was sent home from nursery school for the rest of the year, so that my (German-speaking, mind you) mother to speak more English with me in the hopes that I would be able to communicate more clearly. It wasn’t until Kindergarten that my English speaking skills finally caught up with me. But the feeling of being “different” has never left me since.

— PRAYER — 

Let’s travel with Jesus.  Today’s reading begins “Jesus went on from Caesarea Philippi. This is the location of one of the largest springs feeding the Jordan River.  There is no record of Jesus actually entering that city, but we know that the Great Commission and the Transfiguration both occurred in the vicinity of the city (Matt 16:13), so they went on from what was then known as Caesarea Philippi.  and Jesus  “didn’t want anyone to know it.”  Part of the reason for Jesus’ reluctance to reveal his true identity was that Jesus saw his task as bringing the good news about God and his Kingdom, and that is also why he warned healed people not to tell of their healing. He tended to escape from crowds when there was a danger of his mission becoming nothing more than a ‘healing campaign.’  Besides, he didn’t want crowds for this “teaching moment.” 

He tells the disciples - again - that he would be betrayed, sentenced to die, and rise again in three days. Yes, he had told them this just a chapter earlier.  In fact, there are three instances in Mark 8-10 when Jesus makes these predictions, and the one in today’s Gospel is the second time.  The first time around, he got little response.  This time around, the disciples are just plain uncomfortable and don’t know what to say.

\ Now, I don’t know about you, but when was the last time a trusted teacher, mentor, boss, or friend of yours took you aside for a heart-to-heart talk, explaining that he or she would be given over to the authorities and betrayed by those loyal to them?  Not only that, but that in 3 days they’d come back to life.  You might think to yourself, “Well, what on earth did this person do?  How did they get in trouble with the law?”  Because the relationship between you and this person was close, but also one of deep respect, it might be hard to ask such difficult questions.  It certainly was for the disciples.

How do WE respond to Jesus’ predictions? What are we afraid to ask?  In spite of over 2000 years between us, I’m sure there’s just as much we’re afraid of asking Jesus as the disciples were.  So there’s not much point in going down the road that says, “Ohhh those poor confused, disciples.  They were really clueless” - because the more things change, the more they stay the same.  We, too, remain clueless.  We too, keep seeking.  Even though we have the distinct advantage of knowing the end of the story,  The secret became plain at the cross.  Still, we, too, continue to have questions.  So the story goes on. It continues. 

Continue — now there’s a word.  When we read this passage in the original Greek, we find Jesus teaching (edidasken) - that is, in the ACTIVE indicative form of the verb - what we often call the continuous tense. It’s not like he taught them, and that was it.  He KEEPS on doing it.  What else? Jesus was continually saying “the Son of Man is to be betrayed” BUT, as the Greek says, they were continuously ignorant (egno-oun) and did not understand his words.  

This passage also remind us that God calls from the future, that time is not linear for God, but more like a continuous circle.  The fact that he brings up this prediction not one, not two, but three times is also reminiscent of some of other Jesus questions: “Peter, do you love me?” he asks three times.  And later Peter denies him three times.  And just last week, Jesus asked Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.”  How WE answer this questions says a lot about our own identity as Christians as well.

What happens next kind of reminds me of a family road trip.  The parents are sitting in the front seat, and the kids are in the back making increasingly more disruptive but unintelligible noises which eventually escalate to a deafening crescendo.  “Are we there yet?” they ask. “No!” say the parents.  

This time,  Jesus is in the front seat and the disciples are in the back of the van, traveling somewhere between Caesarea Philippi and the house in Capernaum, where Jesus made his home during the years of his ministry. [Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen living in the village.  Matthew the tax collector also dwelt here].  Another fun fact is that Capernaum is one of the three cities cursed by Jesus for its lack of faith.

The disciples start mumbling and bickering amongst themselves.  Jesus asks them, “Hey, what are you talking about?”  It turns out they had been arguing with one another about who was the greatest.  So they cut right to the end game.  They didn’t even pass go, they went right to Plan B.  They were already trying to establish a hierarchy of leadership in  Jesus’ absence.  They were not living in the present.

Jesus sat down, motioned to the twelve to have a seat, “WHOEVER wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”  Then he grabbed one of the little children, took it in his arms saying “Whoever welcomes a little child IN MY NAME welcomes me.”  You see, this time HE takes one of the children.  He doesn’t even wait for them to come to him. He goes to them.

Jesus’ illustration is not only a radical act for his time, but cause for conviction and repentance for our time as well.   Author Anne Edison-Albright writes:

“It’s jarring to compare that iconic image of Jesus welcoming and blessing the children with the harsh realities that children face every day.”

In the year 2017, children made up 52 percent of the refugee population.  There were 173,800 unaccompanied and separated child refugees in 2017.  According to U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees spokesman Gary Seidman - 

"Whenever children are traveling alone they are vulnerable, far more vulnerable than adults. They are at greater risk of being exploited, or being hurt, of falling into the hands of traffickers," Seidman said. "Children traveling alone are at a much higher risk for violence and abuse." 

He added that children especially do not have the needed emotional capacity to deal with these situations. 

Regardless of our political convictions, we look to Jesus, who takes it to the next level.  We need not ask “What would Jesus do?”  but rather, “What DID Jesus do?”

There are three key words here.  Jesus could have just said, “Whoever welcomes a little child welcomes me, but he went a step further. BUT he goes right to the heart of it by stating “IN MY NAME.”  This supersedes any national or political ties.  Jesus knew that the radical act of welcoming children would be transformational.  It says so all over Scripture - “Every Valley shall be exalted, and the mountains and hills made low.”  “My grace is sufficient for you , for My power is made perfect in weakness.” St. Paul writes, “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” It all changes at the cross.

It’s not about our opinions, or where we stand.  It’s this direct line that leads to God.  Now, I’m not a math wizard either, but I remember the Transitive property - if A=B then A=C. If you welcome the child, you welcome me. Matthew 10:40 says,  “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”  So there you have it.  And it refers to WHOEVER. Whoever WELCOMES.  Whoever does it.  Not a specific class of people, just the doers.  A few weeks ago we heard, “Be ye DOERS of the Word, and not hearers only.”  Just. Do. It.

As we live in response to Christ’s example and welcome all children around us — the weak, the vulnerable, the disenfranchised, those that have no voice — we also need to learn to welcome the child within us.  There is something inside each one of us that cries out to be loved, embraced, and accepted by a force, a community larger than ourselves.

That cry is answered by Jesus. When we hear God’s voice through the presence of the Holy Spirit, we answer in faIth. We remember our baptism. We remember that we are loved, and Whose we are. 

Then we meet others who share our fatih.  We become community, the family of God. We begin to find ways to make God’s Kingdom a reality, right here, right now.  We celebrate being the Body of Christ in the Lord’s Supper.

One of my favorite songs by the band Casting Crowns is called “If We Are the Body,” and the lyrics talk about what it means to be the body of Christ, what it means to welcome the vulnerable and the less than.  It goes like this:

It's crowded in worship today

As she slips in trying to fade into the faces

The girls teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know

A traveler is far away from home

He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row

The weight of their judgmental glances

Tells him that his chances are better out on the road

But if we are the body

Why aren't His arms reaching?

Why aren't His hands healing?

Why aren't His words teaching?

And if we are the body

Why aren't His feet going?

Why is His love not showing them there is a way?

Jesus paid much too high a price

For us to pick and choose who should come

And we are the body of Christ

Think on those words. 

Last, but certainly not least, It all begins with a little child. Welcome that child.  Tell him or her they are loved.  It begins with you and with me.  AMEN.